Last week our country held a very, very important election.
That's right: The choosing of America's Most Haunted House in the Ghost Hunters Great American Ghost Hunt!! SCARY! Congratulations house-on-a-private-island-thingy in Thousand Islands, New York! And I have no idea if this island is the birthplace of the salad dressing, but if it isn't it should be. Right, French Dressing, France?? Congratulations haunted-est house, with your ghost of a little girl and your flying spoon (Maybe not flying? Maybe just hanging from nose of invisible ghost? So not as much scary as it is hysterical HAHA!??) and your weird, disembodied voices. Though honestly? Big deal. I lived somewhere haunted once* and I liked it. PEOPLE ARE WUSSY. And anyways, you know what makes any scary scenario way more romantic bearable? TAPS ghost hunter, Steve. Hold me, Steve.
Also, in another, slightly lesser-known display of democracy last week, Barack Obama was elected this nation's first black tall, dark and handsome president. Which, of course, is no reason at all to vote for someone (What are you? Thirteen?) but is a perfectly good reason to write your name plus his name all over your notebook surrounded by big hearts.
In his acceptance speech, Obama said many, many sexy inspiring things, like:
"It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America."
"It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day." (Holy CRAP. Why don't people in my own life talk like this? Instead, they just say DUDE a gagillion times a day and SUCK IT almost as many and oh wait – that person is me.)
"This is our moment. This is our time -- to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth -- that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes we can."
Yes we can have the highly inappropriate hots for our Commander-In-Chief. It's one nation under Oh-Mah-Gah.
And then there was the quote that resonated louder than all the others combined:
"Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House."
Wait...WHAT? A puppy? THE OBAMAS ARE LOOKING FOR A DOG??? First of all, why doesn't anyone anywhere ever tell me anything?? This is called a huge oversight, or Well Played, Government Oversight Committee. Second of all, who are Sasha and Malia? HAHA! I'm just kidding. I know they're actually...wait. Does Obama have two wives? I CAN MAYBE BE WIFE #3??? And speaking of three, third of all...hello??:
Could maybe change name to Filibuster?
Dear other world leaders who aren't Prince Charles: Take a lesson from him and read this blog, because this blog changes lives and unites countries. You know, where changes lives = induces narcolepsy and unites countries = this reader is in Canada. If President-Elect Barack O-Mah-Gah-Droooools had been reading, he would have known about my determined search to find Buster a home worthy of his wonderful spirit. And our incoming first family would have had the chance to bring with them to the White House the singular greatest dog ever rescued off the side of any road anywhere. And – as a bonus! – on the heels of this historical election where we, as a country, have taken great strides forward in breaking through our racial barriers, we could have also taken an equally great leap toward stamping out America's horrible DOG BREED BARRIERS:
Pit Bull: From feared, misunderstood breed to cuddly international diplomat.
Plus...can you picture it???:
Yes, Buster talks like Scooby in the first picture and an English teacher in the second. Don't question it.
I have absolutely no earthly idea.
Hold me some more, Steve.
So, it's not the White House. Who cares?! It's a house and it's white. Okay, it's actually not white either but it IS a house. Though, unfortunately, one that isn't haunted. At least as far as I know. Sorry Steve. This time I'll hold you. It also doesn't have 35 bathrooms but, again, who cares?? Buster likes to do his business outside anyway. What it does have is a wonderful family made up of a lovely woman I've worked with for years, her husband and their quite awesome almost-six year old boy. Who, by the way, is made that much more awesome by the fact that on the day I dropped off Buster he told me I was pretty multiple times and kept holding my hand.
Me: I'm giving you a new dog, M.!
M: Yeah, but are YOU staying? You're PRETTY. Grabs my hand. Giggles.
Me: But look! Doggy!
M: You're pretty.
This can be be called Kids Say The Funniest Things or, more accurately, The Most Action I've Seen In a Year.
What I like best about the family Buster has ended up with – besides the fact they all three love the crap out of him, of course – is the story of how he got there. I mean how he literally got there was in my car:
But how he really got there was by beating the odds. Because odds were against him on the side of the road. And odds were against him at the death-row shelter. And in a world where odds are already against most stray animals finding new homes, they were quadruple-y against Buster because of his breed.
And, oh yeah – one more thing (and this is my favorite part): Buster also beat the odds against this particular family adopting him since Lovely Woman's husband had the same reaction to the idea of a Pit Bull that so many other people did: No way. Not in my house. Not around my little boy. And I didn't blame him either, because I understood the stigma. But he hadn't met Buster and I felt endlessly frustrated that such a great dog kept getting this summary verdict rendered against him simply because of his breed.
But Lovely Woman did meet him on that first day we busted him out of the shelter. (Shelter Motto: Welcome to our shelter – where we don't actually give any) (Alternate motto: ANIMALS ANNOY US, WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM HERE??) She and her husband were already looking for a new dog, which is why she was so immediately receptive to Buster. Like me, she gave no strikes against him just because he was a Pit. She liked him. And she trusted my judgment of his personality (God love her) and, consequently, was just as disappointed as I was when her husband didn't go for it.
So Buster went off to live with my friend Kim for a week and then with fosters for a week after that. His fosters, by the way, totally fell in love with him and wanted to keep him, despite the fact the living arrangements weren't at all suitable for Buster in the long term. When they found out I was taking him back in the end, they told me in a fit of hysteria that I ruin lives. First of all, you people don't even know me. RUDE. Second of all, to all the people who do know me? Yeah, um...sorry about that.
So while the fosters were falling in (psycho) love and while I was still workin' it and trying to find Buster a permanent home, Lovely Woman was going about her business trying to find the right dog to add to her family. She visited adoption fairs (God love her MORE) and even tried to bring one dog home with her to see how she fit with them. (She didn't.) And all the while, in the back of her mind, was Buster. Buster with his big pink nose. Buster with his non-stop licking. Buster with his positive outlook. Buster with his addiction to spooning and complete over-the-moon love of people. Buster with that FACE.
So she kept asking me about how he was doing. And relaying the stories to her husband. And then they both started thinking about him. And then they did something I completely didn't expect: They decided to take a leap of faith and trust – to look beyond the stereotypes of Buster's breed and to look, instead, directly at Buster himself. Buster with his big pink nose. Buster with his non-stop licking. Buster with his positive outlook. Buster with his addiction to spooning and complete over-the-moon love of people. Buster with that FACE.
So with hope in all their hearts – and, understandably, a little bit of nerves in their guts – Buster came to stay at their house for a while to see. And then, not knowing the exact moment it happened, they all looked around one day and realized Buster had already come home to stay.
Welcome, loyal readers, to Buster 2.0. Where his life is pretty much like this now, every single day:
So congratulations all around, then! Congratulations to Thousand Islands, New York and your most haunted house in America. (Really? Flying Flatware is scary?) Congratulations to incoming President Barack O-Mah-Gah-Droooools. Sorry about Buster, but you can't win 'em all. Congratulations to Lovely Woman and Lovely Woman's Husband and awesome little M. for choosing such an amazing dog to complete your family. Your leap of faith did much to restore my faith in the idea that basically most people are good.
And congratulations most of all to Buster. Welcome to your happy ending!!
And speaking of happy endings: